Always Carried
by ravarath
Summary: She has changed in ways both big and small in the years they'd spent apart, but the Doctor thinks these differences only make Rose more beautiful. (Rose/10.5)


**A/N: A sort of fluffy, introspective piece with 10.5 and Rose. These one shots keep popping into my head and I don't know why.**

* * *

Change is a natural, completely expected phenomenon. Only a truly naive person would think either of them had remained the same in these past few years apart.

The Doctor was no stranger to change; quite the opposite, actually. It was something he learned to accept readily, especially with his race's genetic ability to regenerate. It was something he mostly embraced, to the point where he crossed galaxies and universes to pursue the unknown. Because life- a real, full life, that is- was not static and indolent. Changes both big and small added color to the canvas of a lifespan, and the Doctor couldn't help but marvel at them.

Because changes were extraordinary, in their own unique way. Even the littlest difference could create ripples in the universe, and the most ordinary person could change the landscape of creation. All the Doctor had to do was look at Donna Noble to see the truth of that fact.

Brilliant, fiery Donna. All it came down to was a simple turn of the wheel. She'd turned left and saved a broken Time Lord from himself. With a quick turn, Donna Noble had set the world right and even set into motion his creation: a part-human, part-Time Lord hybrid born from a hand, regeneration energy, and a kick of Donna DNA.

It was both wonderful and terrifying to contemplate, even for him. Sometimes the tiniest, most seemingly harmless little changes could be more powerful than wars or conflict. It was in his nature to observe them, infer from them, and learn from them.

And as the metacrisis Doctor lay in bed, his arm tucked around Rose's shoulders, he couldn't help but ponder the changes he saw in her. Of course, there were many of these, but he was of the opinion that it was the smallest changes that spoke volumes about Rose as a person.

Her fashion sense had caught his eye first. Before, she had favored casual styles in an array of bright colors. She had been beautiful then, but it was a beauty still in its immature stages. Oh, there had been days where she had dressed up and shed that laid back appearance, but mainly it had been because their destination necessitated it. Left to her own devices, the Rose Tyler he had met so long ago favored comfort over couture. And that meant fly-away hair, hoodies, t-shirts, and shoes she could run in.

But the girl Rose Tyler had become a woman in their time apart, and the Doctor couldn't help but be fascinated at the changes both obvious and subtle.

Gone were the t-shirts and hoodies emblazoned with band names and logos. She favored quietly elegant attire the majority of the time: soft-colored blouses, well-cut trousers, and practical jackets. He thought it suited her: lovely, yet resilient. Just like his Rose.

But what touched him the most was one particular color preference: no matter what, Rose always included something blue in her outfit. Sometimes it was a jacket, sometimes it was a belt or maybe even a bracelet. Always some deep, rich hue of blue that was reminiscent of a past never forgotten. Always remembered, always carried.

She'd caught him in her closet once, fingering the various blue items with a wistful look on his face.

"It was awful," she said quietly, threading her fingers through his. "I had all these memories of you but nothing to hold onto." Rose paused, running her thumb over the back of his hand. "There's this posh little shop a couple of blocks from Torchwood; I passed it sometimes when I walked to lunch." With her free hand, Rose reached out to touch something folded neatly on the shelf. "One day, I glanced at the window display on my way by, and I saw this."

The Doctor had recognized it immediately: it was the very same blue jacket she'd worn as she crossed universes and battlefields to find him.

"It wasn't quite the same color of the TARDIS," she admitted with a sad smile. "But it was close enough, so I bought it." She gave him a small smirk. "The price was a bit outrageous, though. Mum thought I'd gone mad."

Rose lay her palm flat on the smooth material, eyes misty. "It's silly, yeah?"

His arms encircled her body, hugging Rose to him tightly. "Never. Don't ever think that."

If the bright pinks she used to wear were representative of the girl she had formerly been, then blue was truly her color now. His Rose was like a deep ocean: strong and indomitable, tranquil yet passionate. Or perhaps she was like her namesake: beautiful, but far from defenseless.

She pulled back a little, eyes thoughtful. "You don't wear pinstripes anymore."

The Doctor glanced down at his own attire. "Well, new new new Doctor," he replied quietly. "I thought the blue was a better color on me." He hesitated, reconsidering his words. Perhaps she preferred the pinstripes? After all, change was inevitable; but that didn't mean it was always welcomed. "What d'you think?"

She ran a finger delicately down his lapel, a smile beginning to tug at her lips. "It's different."

"But good different, yeah?"

"No," Rose grinned, pulling decidedly on his blue jacket. "_Fantastic _different."


End file.
